


Not Normal: Safe

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Lawyer Sam AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 10:11:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6419689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica never died, Sam made it to his interview. Now she's his wife and he's the up-and-coming Assistant District Attorney for L.A. county. What to do when a case-file crosses his desk with a smiling green-eyed Winchester accused of murder? Can he get his brother off the hook?</p>
<p>The rating is preemptive. My stuff usually ends up going to smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Monotony

Sam rolled over in bed and kissed his wife. His 6am alarm woke the both of them every morning and he was always quick to soothe Jessica back to sleep. He dressed quietly in his best suit, out of the two he had, and headed to the kitchen for his daily breakfast of wheat toast, fried eggs and coffee. He locked the door behind him and headed for work in his 1998 Ford Explorer. He stopped at seven red lights, the same seven lights that caught him every morning. He smiled at the guard who checked his ID every morning and walked to the District Attorneys' office. He took the stairs, same as he did every morning. He walked to his desk and set his briefcase down, popping it open and pulling out his case files.

"Hey, Winchester! My office." His boss called. That hasn't happened in months. Sam stood, closing the distance across the bullpen in just 4 steps. Sandra Turner, Los Angeles Assistant District Attorney,  was sitting at her disorganized mess of a desk. She nodded at him to close the door, so he did, taking a seat in front of her but still towering over the short grey-haired woman. "We got a case in this morning. It's shaping up to be quite a file. Identity Theft, Breaking and Entering, Assault with a Deadly, Impersonating an Officer, Impersonating a Fed, Possession of an Illegal Firearm, and, you know, Murder."

"Okay. I have a full caseload, right now, but I can..."

His boss shook her head. "You can't have this one, Samuel. I was actually gonna suggest you take some vacation time."

Sam's eyebrows knit together. "I... don't understand, Sandy."

The woman didn't answer, sliding a manila case folder across the desk. Sam picked it up and flipped it open in his lap. A picture of a green-eyed man smiled up at him. A sigh pulled itself from his lips. "'Winchester' ain't a common name. So, I checked it against your next of kin. Your brother, right?"

Sam swallowed, nodding as he flipped through the file. Dean was screwed. They had DNA and fingerprints at the scene, fake credit cards, his Colt, a sawed-off Remington and a fake FBI badge all on his person at the time of the arrest. "They have him at Metro?"

"Yep. Since last night. How you wanna do this? You just gonna lend him moral support or are you gonna lend him that brain of yours?"

"I, uh... I haven't talked to him in years. This is... I was gonna use my vacation days to take Jess on a cruise... but I'm sure she'll understand if we have to wait a year. Thanks for the heads up, Sandy."

"I'll put your paperwork in and give your caseload to Johnson. You get on down to Metro."

Sam stood and walked out, file heavy in his hand.

**************

The room seemed smaller than normal. He'd been in that kind of room, maybe even that exact room, in the past to offer plea bargains to criminals. But this time, the room seemed smaller. He felt heavier. What would he say to his brother? How would he fix this? Dean must be worried. The thought of life in prison with no women, no Zeppelin... no Impala. Sam shuddered to think of how Dean was dealing.

The sound of a bolt turning in the heavy duty lock pulled his attention up from his phone where he'd been texting Jessica. He stood and tried to keep his cool as the guard opened the door.

He was expecting to see a downtrodden, maybe forlorn, Dean Winchester, but what he got was sparkling green eyes and a toothy grin. "Sammy! Nice suit, Gigantor."

Sam smoothed out his suit jacket and nodded to the guard, who left and locked them in. "Dean, you're in jail. This isn't the time to be making fun of me."

"Well, it ain't like I see you any other time so I have years of teasing to catch up on. Haven't seen you since Jericho." Dean said, flopping down in one of the chairs and putting his feet up on the table. He looked down at his cuffed hands "Didn't even get a call back when Dad died."

Sam looked down. He had made the decision not to call. It had been during finals week and he hadn't wanted to think about that. And he had been dreading the conversation for years. "Look, I'm sorry, Dean, but right now, we have more important things to deal with. What happened?"

"It was a demon. The thing that killed Dad. Same one that killed Mom."

"Dean, I meant 'what happened last night'?"

Dean dropped his feet off the table with a thud. "I know what you meant." He growled. "Last night was L.A. I was putting down a shapeshifter and instead of ignoring the noise like good East L.A.ers should, the neighbors called the cops. Damn gentrification is killing me."

"Dean, this isn't a joke. They have DNA, they have fingerprints. You can get 5 years just for the Remington. Never mind the murder charge." Sam pulled a chair around the table to sit next to his brother.

"Murder? I wasn't murdering-"

"Dean, it's not like we can walk into a courtroom and tell a judge, 'that wasn't a woman he shot, it was a shape shifting monster'."

Dean sighed. "Had to get arrested in L.A., didn't I? This isn't one of those jails that I can break out of, is it?"

Sam shook his head. "No. You aren't walking out of Metro unless you're released. You aren't even going to get bail. You're transient, no ties to the community."

"You're a tie. Pillar of the community, right, Mr. ADA?"

"I'm not gonna put myself on the line like that when I know you're gonna run, Dean. It would ruin my career."

"Yeah. That career. Pretty damn important to you, huh? More important than family, anyway." Dean said, bitterly.

"Dean. I'm here to help you. Don't give me this shit right now."

"Look, here's how you can help me. Get on your phone and call Ellen's Roadhouse. This is the number. Tell 'em the situation. They'll work it out." Dean said, grabbing a pen and writing a phone number on the back of Sam's hand.

"Ellen's Roadhouse?"

"It's a hunter bar. A bunch of hunters hang out there. They'll help me out of here."

"What, you don't want Bobby on this?" Sam asked, pulling out his cell phone. That was another number he hadn't called in a while.

"I already called Bobby. He was my one phone call. Since, you know, you wouldn't have answered."

"Dean."

"Dude. Call Ellen. That's all I want from you."

"And what are a bunch of hunters gonna do to get you out, Dean? I'm a lawyer. I'm your best bet."

Dean stood, leaning down with a glare. "You, Sammy, are a soft little _bitch_... in a JCPenney suit. You've forgotten what hunters can do. You've forgotten what Bobby's capable of. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Ash will get me out of this before you _ever_ get me in front of a judge. So, you get the hell out of here, go back to your career and your woman and your safe boring-ass life. Let hunters do what hunters do best." Dean walked to the door and banged on it with an open hand. "Take me back!"

"Dean. Dude."

"Call the number, Jackass." Dean said, as the guard pulled him out of the room.

Sam looked down at the back of his hand and sighed. That had gone about as well as could be expected.


	2. Hunters doing what they do

"Harvelle's Roadhouse." A voice with a slight Southern twang came through Sam's mobile phone.

"Uh, hi. I'm looking for Ellen."

"You found 'er."

"My name is Sam Winchester. My brother told me to call you."

"What kinda trouble's he in?"

"25 to life trouble. He's been arrested in LA on murder charges and basically... you know, being a hunter."

"Gotcha." Ellen said, before the line disconnected.

Sam looked down at his phone. He'd forgotten how rude hunters could be. He got out of the SUV and walked into the house. "Hey, Jess? You home, babe?"

"I'm in the kitchen!" She called. Sam walked in and set his briefcase on the counter. It was empty of files except one, he'd given all of his case files to his cubical-mate, Clint Johnson. "You're home early! That never happens." Jess kissed his cheek.

"Um, actually, I'm on vacation... starting today."

"What? Why?" Sam looked down, as she moved around the kitchen island to begin chopping vegetables again.

"My brother is in jail. He got arrested last night. Right here in L.A."

"And, what, you took leave to be his defense?"

"Uh... yeah. But he told me to shove it and so... here I am."

"He's mad 'cause you missed your dad's funeral?"

"Yeah. And he's just hardheaded enough to get sent to prison for the rest of his life because he refuses to let me help him."

"Well, how long are you on vacation?" She asked, wiping her hands on a dish towel.

"Sandy put me in for 2 weeks." Sam reached over and grabbed a chunk of carrot. "I'm gonna head back to Metro and try to reason with him again tomorrow, but I'm gonna stay here with you today."

"Aww." Jessica smiled, reaching over to rub her thumb down his cheek. "You're so sweet."

He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. "I love you."

"And I love you."

********************************************

Sam's phone went off at 8pm, as he sat on the couch with Jess. "Winchester."

"Samuel, we have a problem." Sandy's voice came through.

"Sandy. What happened?" Sam sat up straight, Jessica scooting away to lean on the armrest instead of his shoulder.

"Well, it seems that a man claiming to be an Agent Elliot of the FBI dropped by the evidence lockup, flashed a badge and demanded to see the evidence against your brother in the impersonation charge. He, somehow, managed to walk out with every bit of physical evidence we had against your brother that wasn't being processed by the crime lab. I don't even want to think about where he stuffed that shotgun. Look, all we have now is the victim's body and the foreign blood found at the scene."

* _Bobby._ * "Well, I mean, we can prove the evidence was stolen, right?"

"No. Apparently we can't. About a half an hour before the fake feeb showed up, all of our security systems were hacked and remotely turned off. They also dug into our evidence files and deleted all of the photos and digital backups of all the evidence. We can't prove anything, anymore, except that a young woman is dead and your brother happened to sustain a bleeding cut in the vicinity, at some point."

"So, we're going to drop the weapons charge, the impersonation charges and the identity theft, keep him on murder until the CSU have dug up more evidence, then?" Jessica looked at him with concern, but Sam smiled at her to ease her.

"We're trying for that, Samuel, but it looks like the DA might just walk away from the whole thing. If we took it to court, word would get out that someone walked out of evidence with everything... that'd be a problem for the higher ups. It'd be embarrassing. The discussion in the office is whether to risk it or not. My question is: you didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

Sam scoffed. "I went in, offered to help him and he sent me away. All he wanted was for me to tell one of his friends that he was in jail. And it wasn't an Agent Elliot." * _Or Bobby Singer._ *

"All right, Winchester. Well, if your brother doesn't want your help, then I expect you back to work on Monday. Whether we have to set him loose, or not."

"Of course, Sandy. See you on Monday." Sam said, hitting the power button on his phone. "So, it looks like Dean might get off scot-free. Someone broke in and stole all the evidence from his case. They don't think they're gonna hold him on the charges."

"Who would've done that? How is that even possible?"

"Someone was asleep on the job. Sandy just wanted to make sure that I wasn't involved." Sam leaned back on the couch, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her back to snuggle against him. "And I have to be back at work on Monday."

"Oooh, two whole vacation days. It's like a four-day weekend. Whatever shall we do tomorrow?" Jess asked, snuggling her head into his chest.

"Whatever you want, babe. I'm good as long as I'm with you."

******************************

Sam walked down the stairs at 6am. He'd turned his alarm off but his body was so used to waking at 6 that he'd woken anyway. He walked into the kitchen, his eyes falling on the coffee pot, which was on with a fresh pot. "Hope you don't mind, Sammy. I was in need of a caffeine fix." Dean's gruff voice said from the living room. Sam sighed, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a cup. He pulled his robe around him, tying it closed. He walked into the living room and looked at his brother, who smiled at him. "See what happens when you let hunters do what hunters do?"

"And what is it that hunters do, Dean? Break a dozen federal laws and a hundred state ones to get you off of the hook for the laws you broke?" Sam sat on his La-Z-Boy but didn't relax in it.

"Hunters have each others' backs. They help each other out of bad situations, even die for each other."

Sam scoffed. "I tried to have your back, Dean. I tried to help you get out of this the right way. You didn't even want to give me a chance to do what I do best. You just gave me a phone number for some other criminals and sent me out of that room."

"You weren't there for _me_ , Sam. Don't lie to yourself. You were there because your boss handed my file to you and you couldn't risk telling that woman that you didn't give a damn. It would just completely ruin your reputation if people found out that you weren't a family man, that you'd _abandoned_ us."

"I went to college, Dean, that's all. I made a life. A good life. A safe life."

"Safe. Right. No one is ever safe, and you know that. That's why you've got a 5 pound bag of salt in the garage, a set of iron fireplace tools in front of that electric fireplace and I'll be damned if that decorative knife over the mantel isn't silver." Dean stood, putting his coffee mug on the side table and looking down at his little brother. "You didn't call back when Dad died. You didn't invite me to your wedding. Bet you told your wife that I didn't _want_ to come, right? 'Dean hates weddings. Thinks they're archaic', somethin' like that, right? You didn't just go to college, Sammy. You ran away from us, away from everyone who cared about you. To have your life, your wife, your job putting away criminals like me. You did that for you. Everything you've ever done, Sam, has been for _you_. You have _never_ had my back."

"Dean." Sam stood. "I'm selfish, fine. But I'm happy, so is it such a sin?"

"No... not a sin to be happy. Not a sin to kill any shot you might've had at reconciling with our father. Not a sin to not be there when your brother has to burn his body." Dean's breath came in heavily as he contained his rage. "But it is a sin to lie. Lie to yourself, lie to me, lie to your _wife_. She will never know you. You'll never let her in. Love her all you want, you still lie to her every day.

Sam swallowed. "Why would a demon kill Mom and Dad?" He whispered.

"What, now, you care? It killed Dad because he got too close. Couldn't tell you why Mom got burned."

"Are you following the same-"

"Damn straight, I am." Dean interrupted. He looked down. "I've lost track of him, right now, that's why I took the shifter hunt, but I'm definitely on his track. I'll end this."

"By yourself?"

"With Bobby. With Jo and Ellen and any other hunter that _wants_ to help."

"Dean."

"I just wanted to... I wanted to say 'goodbye'. The way this thing is going, you and your wife are gonna be the only Winchesters this yellow-eyed fucker doesn't put down, so... I'll have Bobby call you if I die. Not that you'll show up for the burn, but... whatever." Dean stepped toward the front door, unlocking it and stepping out into the early morning sun.

Sam sighed and went back up the stairs to lie in bed and hold Jessica close.


End file.
